Page 38 of Mafia King's Bride

“Oh gosh,” I mutter incoherently.

Dmitri smiles. It’s the first time he’s ever smiled at me that way. Warmth touches every inch of his face, making his eyes look brighter and bluer, his cheekbones softer.

Unable to stop myself, I reach up and touch his lips with my thumb.

His smile drops, and I snatch my hand away as though burned.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“For what?”

“Uh, I just—” I hesitate. “I haven’t seen you smile at me since we got married. I mean, there was the one time when Yelena was there, but it was because of her...”

I don’t finish, and silence follows.

We stare at each other, and it feels like an eternity. Something shifts between us, the air now charged with an undercurrent I can’t define but feel all the way down to my bones.

What’s going on?

I open my mouth to ask what’s changed, what this charged energy means, but the words die on my lips.

“I’m going to kiss you now.”

Dmitri surprises me by speaking first, his voice low.

My heart stutters in my chest. I don’t know what’s brought about the sudden change in the way he sees me and treats me, but I’m not about to question it.

One large hand comes up to cradle my cheek as his head dips low.

Then his lips are on mine, soft yet decisive. I gasp quietly at the unfamiliar yet overwhelming sensation. This is no peck or cursory kiss—it feels like an earthquake, shaking me to my core.

One kiss turns to two, three, forgetting to count as I lose myself. All the months of hostility between us seem to melt away as I circle my arms around his neck.

His thumb strokes my cheek as our lips move together, and I realize with startling clarity that Ilikethis. More than I thought I ever would.

Reluctantly, Dmitri ends the kiss but stays close, our foreheads touching as we both catch our breath.

I keep my eyes closed, afraid of what I might see in his when I open them. I don’t want this moment to end.

“Anastasia,” he whispers my full name. “I want more. If you want me to stop, you need to say it.”

This is uncharted territory.

I should take a step back and evaluate.

“Don’t stop.” My lips move, birthing the words.

He nods and leans in again, kissing me deeper this time. There’s no question of patience or subtlety. We both know this is more than a kiss—we know where it will end. I let my towel fall when his hand touches the part where I tucked it in, and he ends the kiss to stare at me, sucking in a deep breath.

I feel exposed under his stare, but he looks at me like I’m something unbelievable. It erases my vulnerability. His gaze is pure adoration, and his hands, when they cup my breasts, do so gently.

“Dmitri,” I murmur his name, leaning in as his fingers tease my nipples to hardened peaks, awash with need and desire.

Dmitri claims my lips again as his muscular arms encircle my body, closing the space between us. He nudges my legs apart, stepping in with a muscled thigh.

I pant as his tongue slides into my mouth, and his hand cups my ass, kneading hard. Every part of me screams his name, wanting to be touched and set aflame by his hands.

“Bed,” he whispers, lifting me off my feet.

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